Twisted Lobelia
by C. Shumaker
Summary: Ron is on trial for the murder of two of his pupils, his niece Laburnum Malfoy, the other, Lobelia Longbottom. The evidence is not in his favour and there is only one other witness to the crime, Harry Potter.
1. Default Chapter

Hermione looked down the track, at her watch, and then again down the track. Where was the train, she wondered? She found it perculiar as well that she was the only one waiting for it. It was half past five in the afternoon, where were the commuters?She was distracted from this thought as something cold and wet fell on her shoulder. Odd, she thought as she scanned the ceiling. Finally her eyes fell upon a tiny crack that was slowly growing in size. The sporadic drip soon evolved into a steady leak.  
"Where is the train!?" Hermione whispered, while she walked away from the leak. Unaware, though, that the crack in the ceiling was following her.  
  
Ron stood in the bedroom doorway and watched as his wife slept. She was so beautiful, the light from the hallway falling upon her figure gave the illusion that she was glowing, gold highlights reflected in her shoulder length hair, a single curl rested in the hollow of her collar bone. Hermione murmured in her sleep as her body moved, searching for the warmth of her husband. Ron looked around their bedroom, the pictures of family members laughing as Hermione smashed a slice of wedding cake in Ron's face, the Weasley family group photo from last year's reunion, Harry and Ron at a Chudley Cannons match, Ron picked up the picture. He and Harry looked so happy even though they had been standing in the rain for hours, of course six rounds of firewhiskey didn't hurt either. Ron sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders sagging as he let the photograph fall to the floor.  
  
"We love you, Daddy!"  
  
Ron looked up and smiled. This year's father's day gift from the twins was talking to him. He reached over and picked up the framed photo of the girls. Gia and Wendy looked like miniature versions of Hermione, only with firey red curls, as they chased waves during a trip to the beach. Neville Longbottom had taught them a spell to enchant the frame to speak whenever it sensed Ron was sad. The picture began to shout as Ron's eyes welled with tears, before he finally burst into uncontrollable sobbing.  
  
Hermione woke with a start. She was grateful, that she had only been dreaming, how odd to be waiting for a train while the station filled with water. As she slowly found her bearings she wondered why Gia and Wendy were screaming that they loved Ron. Looking at the foot of the bed, she saw that it was not the girls, but only their enchanted picture frame. She also noticed the hunched over form of their father, shaking violently.  
  
"Ron, what's the matter? Ohmigod, the girls!" Hermione ripped off the blankets and grabbed her wand.  
  
"No, the g-g-girls, the girls are f-f-ine." Ron managed to get out between sobs.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders and laid her head upon his, catching the faintest scent of smoke. He grabbed her around her waist , tightly as though never wanting to let go. Ron's cries were muffled as he buried his head into her stomach.  
  
"Ron, what is wrong? Why are you so upset?" She stroked his back as his crying began to subside.  
  
"I love you, Hermione, you know this, right?"  
  
"Of course, what a silly question."  
  
Ron's grip around her waist grew tighter.  
  
"I'm being serious, Hermione, you know I love you, right?"  
  
Hermione looked into her husband's eyes, these were not the jovial eyes she knew, these were the eyes of a cornered animal.  
  
"Ron," she whispered "you're hurting me!"  
  
"And, and you love me, right?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"No matter what?" His eyes raced back and forth across her face.  
  
"No matter what."  
  
Ron let go of Hermione. He stood up and walked towards the doorway and turned around to face her. The light from the hallway gave him a sickly appearance usually reserved for prisoners in Azkaban.  
  
"Where are you going, Ron?" Hermione cautiously walked towards him, her wand hidden in the sleeve of her nightgown. She had never seen him like this before.  
  
"I, I have to go, Hermione."  
  
"Why? Where?" Hermione reached for the light switch.  
  
"Hermione, no!"  
  
Ron's robe was torn and burnt, a large wet dark stain crept from the edges and covered the front. He had numerous scratches on his face, and what looked to be bite marks on the backs of his hands.  
  
"Ron, what happened? Who did this to you? Are you bleeding?"  
  
Tears filled Ron's eyes once again. Hermione felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly felt cold and realized that her nightgown was wet. Looking down she saw a dark crimson stain, mirroring the one on Ron's robe, was on her nightgown. Trembling, she touched the new stain on her, bringing wet red fingertips up to her face. Shaking her head, she turned her palm towards Ron.  
  
"This isn't your blood, is it?"  
  
Ron slowly shook his head from side to side as tears poured down his face. The spell on the picture frame had worn out to the point where it only moaned the words love and daddy intermittently.  
  
"Oh, Ron."  
  
"Hermione, I 'm in trouble." 


	2. Chapter Two

Okay, so I forgot to give the general "These characters don't belong to me, they belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. please don't sue me" speech in chapter one. But here it is now. So please don't sue. I have nothing but old hard candy and crazy eyed glares.  
  
This is the place where I made my best mistakes This is the place where angels don't understand Elvis Costello  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Lobelia Longbottom hated Professor Weasley. She hated his stupid lectures and long boring stories about his many boring adventures with the great Harry Potter. She hated how they learned everything out of books, that there was never any hands on learning. This was Defense Against the Dark Arts! What if You - Know - Who hadn't been defeated by Professor Potter during the Great Battle five years ago? Lobelia had tried talking to her parents about Professor Weasley's lousy teaching abilities, but they only told her he knew what was best for first year students to learn or that when she became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, she could decide on the lesson plan. She didn't know why she bothered; Professor Weasley and her father had been good friends for so long, why would he pick his daughter's side?  
  
"Move it, Longbottom!" Laburnum Malfoy barked as she pushed past Lobelia.  
  
Gryffindor and Slytherin still shared Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of the few times that Lobelia was forced to be in the presence of Laburnum Malfoy. Laburnum Malfoy had inherited her father's white blond hair, which she chose to keep in a fishtail braid that fell below her waist. She also possessed the infamous Malfoy cheekbones and eyebrows but had been fortunate enough to inherit piercing blue eyes from her mother, Ginny Weasley's, side of the family. Lobelia sighed as she stroked her own limp dirty blond locks her mother insisted she keep in a bob, and thought about her tree bark brown eyes she inherited from her father. What Laburnum lacked in manners, she made up for in beauty that was for sure.  
  
As Lobelia settled in her chair for another boring hour, she finally realized why her Remembrall had suddenly glowed a deep red this morning at breakfast when she was complaining about Professor Weasley. Her twenty-foot scroll on boggarts was due today! Panicked, Lobelia looked at the clock as she pulled out a fresh scroll. Fifteen minutes until class officially began. If she could just manage to convince someone to let her copy his or her scroll, Laburnum's light chuckle caught her attention.  
  
"Laburnum," Lobelia whispered, with no response as Laburnum continued to converse with one of her classmates.  
  
"Laburnum!" Lobelia whispered a little louder, managing to receive a brief irritated glance from the Slytherin, Angus sitting in the row in front of Laburnum.  
  
"Laburnum!"  
  
Laburnum whipped around in her chair so fast the student in the row ahead of her had to duck in order to avoid being hit in the face by her braid.  
  
"What is it, Longbottom!" Laburnum whispered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Did you finish your scroll on boggarts?" Lobelia asked anxiously.  
  
Laburnum chuckled before unleashing a Malfoy sneer.  
  
"I finished my scroll on boggarts the day Uncle Ron, I mean, Professor Weasley assigned it. Why?"  
  
Lobelia gulped. Laburnum was in the top of the first year's class when it came to academics, and would be the first to remind you of it. There were only a couple of minutes left before class began, but if she was able to copy down a few phrases from Laburnum and shred the remainder of her scroll, she might be able to convince Professor Weasley that her cat had ruined her scroll.  
  
"Please, Laburnum, let me copy off of your scroll!"  
  
Laburnum laughed, "I can't believe you actually thought I would let you copy off of me! No way, Longbottom, we've had over two weeks to work on this, plenty of time to do research in the library instead of, oh wait, I forgot, you don't have any friends to goof off with!" Laburnum let out one more laugh before turning back around in her seat and making sure that her scroll was secure in her satchel.  
  
Lobelia's ears burned a deep crimson of shame. Laburnum may have been right, Lobelia didn't have a group of friends, but she didn't have to shout it out for the rest of the class to hear.  
  
"Alright, class, settle down. I hope everyone remembered their scrolls on boggarts are due today." Ron Weasley's voice echoed throughout the classroom as he threw his satchel on his desk. Various groans and cheers followed in reply. Ron laughed.  
  
"Now, now, don't worry, I have a long and boring lecture on poltergeists which should give you procrastinators a chance to finish a final foot or two!" Ron proceeded to pull a gigantic dusty book, bigger than himself, out of his satchel. As he turned only to the first page, Lobelia had a feeling that he wouldn't stop until he got to the index.  
  
Professor Weasley read the introduction written by the late Albus Dumbledore ("I didn't know he had passed on!" Oin Cho, a first year Gryffindor chimed in. "Oh no, he isn't dead, he's just much older now and takes more time to get ready, so he tends to be late to many functions!" Professor Weasley responded.)  
  
Lobelia looked around and saw that many of the students were adding more feet to their scrolls. She tried to catch a glimpse of the student's scroll in front of her, but the way the desks were arranged this year, she would have to draw much attention to herself in order to grab even a couple of words. Lobelia slumped down into her chair and sighed. Her parents would kill her if she received another poor mark in any of her studies, but it wasn't her fault! She couldn't help it if she wasn't related to half of the staff at Hogwart's, like a certain snobby Gryffindor. Her mother taught Arithmancy, her uncle taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, and her aunt taught Muggle Studies! Why was Lobelia the only one onto this? She didn't dare bring this up to her parents, they would only laugh it off and tell her the reason Laburnum was the head of the class was due to the numerous hours she spent studying. But Lobelia knew the truth. She began to panic as she noticed Professor Weasley coming closer to the end of the book. Was he reading faster than usual? Did he know that she didn't do her assignment and sped up the pace of his reading to catch her with a blank scroll and full inkbottle only to make an example of her to the class? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Laburnum had become lax in guarding her homework. Lobelia chewed on her bottom lip as she thought of the possible outcomes. She could easily lift the scroll and copy a few lines before Laburnum even noticed. There was also the chance that she might turn around and catch Lobelia and call attention to Professor Weasley, but Lobelia was willing to risk it. Lobelia took a couple of deep breaths. She dropped her quill on the floor, as an excuse to bend down and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. Quietly she unbuckled Laburnum's satchel and removed the scroll. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst through her chest. She sighed as she saw that Laburnum was too caught up in taking notes about poltergeists. Lobelia slowly unrolled the neatly written scroll under her desk and began to furiously copy as much as she could before Professor Weasley finished the last chapter on defending yourself against poltergeists.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Startled, Lobelia knocked the open inkbottle on her lap, which spilled its contents onto the stolen homework. Looking up she stared straight into the cold angry eyes of Laburnum.  
  
"What, huh, what?" Lobelia responded while trying to clean up the black inky mess.  
  
"Don't play dumb, that is my scroll! I can't believe you would steal and ruin my homework!"  
  
"Alright, back row, quiet down." Professor Weasley warned  
  
"I, I'm so sorry, Laburnum. I just needed a couple of lines." Lobelia whispered pitifully, her eyes threatening to unleash an army of tears.  
  
"No, no, it really is my fault. I must have been stuttering when I told you no earlier!" Laburnum reached out for her ruined scroll.  
  
"No, no, Laburnum, don't worry, I can clean it up, honest!"  
  
"That's quite alright, Longbottom, you've done so much already. Give me back my scroll!"  
  
Lobelia began to quietly sob. Laburnum was sure to tell Professor Weasley what had happened and of course he would take his niece's side. Lobelia imagined what laid ahead for her, a trip to the headmaster's office, and a letter to her parents, a howler sent to her, probably at breakfast when everyone was sure to be present. What was she thinking? She should have just feigned illness when she remembered her forgotten homework assignment and left before Professor Weasley had arrived. Surely there was someone in Slytherin that would have let her copy one of his or her old scrolls, why hadn't she thought of that earlier? Now she sat, holding a stolen ink and tear soaked scroll.  
  
"Give me back my scroll, Longbottom!"  
  
"Back row, this is your last warning, be quiet!"  
  
Lobelia continued to sob.  
  
"Longbottom, GIVE IT BACK!"  
  
"That's it! Back row, detention, see me after class!" Professor Weasley bellowed and slammed shut his book, causing a cloud of dust to halo his head.  
  
Laburnum shook her head back and forth. She had tried to be nice to Lobelia Longbottom, a request from her mother since Uncle Ron and Mr. Longbottom were such good friends. But being nice to Lobelia was like trying to like the taste of Skele-Gro. Lobelia Longbottom was weird plus, she was a Slytherin. Even though Laburnum's own father had been a member of Slytherin, she tried to avoid them at all costs. They were a creepy whiny spoiled bunch; she still couldn't believe her father had been one. She much preferred the company of her fellow Gryffindors, a lively fun bunch who weren't afraid of a little hard work.  
  
Lobelia was always zoning out at the most inopportune times, like when you were trying to get to class on time and she was standing in front of the door. Laburnum had tried to politely ask Lobelia to go in or move out of the way, but with no effect. It was almost as if the girl needed to be treated harshly in order to produce a response.  
  
"Move it, Longbottom!" Laburnum finally yelled as she pushed violently past the girl. Apparently it worked because soon after Laburnum had taken her seat, Lobelia was taking her place in a seat next to her. She hated how Uncle Ron insisted they sit alphabetically, she at least wish that she had been given the Weasley last name so she could sit down in front near Samantha Woods, but Uncle Ron had his reasons. Whatever they may be.  
  
Laburnum looked over her course syllabus, excellent! she thought to herself, today we learn about poltergeists. There was still some time before class began, and she reached into her satchel for the copy of "A History of Hogwarts" she had checked out for a bit of light reading ("Just like your Aunt Hermione!" her parents would often comment.) but decided against it. She did spend far too much time with her face buried in a book. Nervously, she instigated a conversation with Angus Lampry, much to his delight. This isn't so bad, she thought as he anxiously babbled on about his favourite Quidditch positions, almost as pleasant as a nice thick book and a good cup of pumpkin juice. Although, she was wondering what that hissing sound was. Angus had stopped talking and was shooting a very annoyed look to someone over her shoulder. Moments later, Laburnum realized the hissing sound was not a loose pipe, but someone desperately trying to get her attention.  
  
"Excuse me, Angus, this will only take a moment." Laburnum shyly spoke before preparing to unleash her Weasley temper.  
  
"What is it, Longbottom!" Laburnum whispered through clenched teeth.  
  
Laburnum waited impatiently as Lobelia stammered and stuttered trying to get whatever it was she was trying to say out. Laburnum became nervous as she saw Angus turn back around in his seat and converse with the Slytherin girl sitting next to him. Laburnum grew irritated as the girl flirtatiously laughed in response to something Angus had just said. That should be me, Laburnum thought to herself.  
  
"Did you finish your scroll on boggarts?" Lobelia asked anxiously.  
  
Laburnum sighed, that was it? This is what the fuss to get her attention was all about? She wasn't surprised. Students were always wondering if Laburnum had finished this or that assignment, even though they knew perfectly well that she had. They just wanted to copy her homework. This was why Laburnum chose books over her fellow students; it was very rare that a book would come to her for information. Laburnum let out a chuckle before giving Lobelia a cold sneer. ("Laburnum, stop sneering, you look like your father when he was your age!" Her mother would often scold her. "What's wrong with her looking like me?" her father would chime in. "Well, you have to admit, you were a bit of a bugger when you were her age and that sneer doesn't help." "Good point,Ginny! Laburnum, listen to your mother, you don't want to look like a bugger do you?")  
  
"I finished my scroll on boggarts the day Uncle Ron, I mean, Professor Weasley assigned it. Why?"  
  
Laburnum sighed, she kept forgetting, during holidays he was Uncle Ron, but the rest of the time, he must be addressed as Professor Weasley.  
  
"Please, Laburnum, let me copy off of your scroll!"  
  
Laburnum laughed. Lobelia surprised her, having such nerve to request such a thing. How many times had Lobelia addressed her? This might have been the second time since they arrived at school five months ago, when she made a comment about her hair. ("Wow, your hair is really white, does it glow in the dark?" "No, and please stop pulling on my braid, it's still connected to my head!")  
  
"I can't believe you actually thought I would let you copy off of me! No way, Longbottom, we've had over two weeks to work on this, plenty of time to do research in the library instead of, oh wait, I forgot, you don't have any friends to goof off with!"  
  
Laburnum let out one more laugh before turning back around in her seat and making sure that her scroll was secure in her satchel. As Laburnum tightened the straps on her satchel, she felt a little guilty. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lobelia fighting off tears as she slowly turned beet red. Maybe she had been a little hard. Maybe Lobelia had as much trouble making friends as she did and this was her way of extending friendship, as odd as it may be. But this was Lobelia, a girl definitely not known around the school for being normal. Still, Laburnum thought, she couldn't be too careful. This was for the best; lay it out that Laburnum Malfoy was not to be messed with.  
  
Class began and Laburnum was caught up in the frenzy of note taking. She loved her uncle's lectures, how he animated even the most boring text with hand gestures and dramatics. Even the stories she had heard hundreds of times before at family gatherings held her attention as he recounted the many dangerous adventures he and Harry Potter had when they were younger. A sudden movement near her ankles caused her to stop taking notes for a moment. Looking down to make sure there were no stray toads or snakes wandering around she saw that her satchel was open. Odd, she thought, she could have sworn she had closed it. Upon further inspection she found only one item missing, and she knew who had taken it.  
  
"What are you doing?!"  
  
Laburnum regretted her surprise attack as she watched helplessly as the entire contents of Lobelia's inkbottle spilt onto her homework. She flinched as if the ink had been acid and spilt on her own skin, thinking of the two weekends she had spent in the library doing extra research. Ruined, completely ruined now.  
  
"What, huh, what?" Lobelia responded while trying to clean up the black inky mess.  
  
"Don't play dumb, that is my scroll! I can't believe you would steal and ruin my homework!"  
  
"Alright, back row, quiet down." Professor Weasley warned  
  
Laburnum cringed. Uncle Ron normally called on troublesome students by their last names. The fact he referred to them as the back row meant that he thought Laburnum was making trouble on purpose. This was all that she needed, ruined homework and a detention from her favourite uncle.  
  
"I, I'm so sorry, Laburnum. I just needed a couple of lines." Lobelia whispered pitifully, her eyes threatening to unleash an army of tears.  
  
Laburnum really didn't want to dislike Lobelia, but it was truly very hard to like her. Still she felt sorry for the girl, inheriting her father's horrible memory, and she had heard from older students that students in her own house treated her worse than the rest of the school. Hard to believe, considering that Slytherin's tended to stand by each other, no matter what. She shook her pity for the girl out of her mind; it was her fault that her homework was ruined. It was her fault that she was very close to getting her first detention, something she was sure would ruin her chances of becoming a Prefect or Head Girl.  
  
"No, no, it really is my fault. I must have been stuttering when I told you no earlier!" Laburnum reached out for her ruined scroll.  
  
"No, no, Laburnum, don't worry, I can clean it up, honest!"  
  
"That's quite alright, Longbottom, you've done so much already. Give me back my scroll!"  
  
Lobelia began to quietly sob. Laburnum sighed. Just what she needed, Uncle Ron knew she had an impatient streak that was often misinterpreted as cruelty. Lobelia would probably make up some lame story that he would believe. Laburnum could already see the trip to the Headmaster's office and hear the howler from her mom, probably delivered at dinner, her favourite meal of the day. Lobelia continued to blubber, turning the scroll into an inky tear stained pile of paper mush.  
  
"Give me back my scroll, Longbottom!"  
  
"Back row, this is your last warning, be quiet!"  
  
Lobelia continued to sob.  
  
"Longbottom, GIVE IT BACK!"  
  
"That's it! Back row, detention, see me after class!" Professor Weasley bellowed and slammed shut his book, causing a cloud of dust to halo his head.  
  
"You are so dead, Longbottom." Laburnum hissed under her breath. Lobelia did not hear her over the gasping sobs that took control of her body. 


End file.
